


Earthlings

by purnell (orphan_account)



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:04:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/purnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's alive. She puts her head in her hands and she cries. </p><p>People on Earth, those who have met Mark and those who have not. Focuses on his impact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. malia aggio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he's alive. she puts her head in her hands and she cries and cries.

 

she sits on the couch, cross-legged, a blanket drawn across her front. she's watching the news and eating ice cream straight from the pint.

she's at her neighbors', babysitting. night has fallen and she's bored out of her mind. she'd like to change the channel, watch anything but local news, but she can't find the remote.

she'd go on her phone, but it's on 5%, and she forgot her charger. so she eats ice cream and watches the news and tries not to nod off. her eyelids grow heavy, and she's having trouble keeping them open. she can't fall asleep, the kid she's babysitting has asthma and she's got to be awake, in case it acts up. if she nods off, he could die. she yawns and sits up, hoping the change in position will wake her up a bit. it doesn't. her eyelids are so heavy, like lead, so so heavy, and she wants to sleep, wants to dream, and she's nodding off when she hears his name. mark watney. astronaut mark watney. her eyelids flutter open, she sits bolt upright and ice creams slips from her spoon to the floor. breaking news, says the woman on the screen. breaking news, mark watney is still alive.

she puts her head in her hands and she cries. she cries and she cries and she cries. she's crying because she watched his videos, because she'd liked him, because he was a good person. he was a good person. she's still crying when her neighbors get home, and she doesn't know why, it's not like she knew him personally. she wasn't a science person, wasn't into space. her father was though and they'd watch mark's videos together. he was a good person, and as she thinks this she knows not to think of him in past tense, don't think of him in past tense because he's alive. he's alive. 

she hadn't cried when nasa said mark was dead. she'd cared and she'd been upset but she's crying now because somehow, this is worse. the fact that he's all alone, alive and alone on a planet years away, is so much worse than being dead. so much worse. she shakes her head and wipes at her eyes and when her neighbors walk in the door she smiles, tells them their son is tucked in tight, takes her pay and ducks outside. she hears mrs. pollock turn to her husband and exclaim, "he's alive. honey, look at the news, he's alive!"

she walks home. she kicks up rocks. she looks around at the grass and at the moon and at the trees and at the houses and she knows mark watney misses this, knows astronaut mark watney must be feeling something terrible, knows there's a good chance he won't see any of this ever again. she stops, stands in the middle of her yard. she throws her head back and looks up at the sky. she wipes a tear from her eye and she's confused, angry, sad.

she takes a moment and then she steps inside, quietly. her little brother waves at her as she walks by and she feels she has to tell him. her brother, mark watney's #1 fan, aspiring astronaut. maybe it won't hit him the same way it hit her. she creeps into his room and sits down at the end of his bed. she crosses her legs and leans forward, says, her voice a whisper, "hey little man,"

"hey," he says. he draws his space-themed comforter up to his chin and rests his head on his knees.

"you're never gonna believe what i just found out."

"what is it?" he yawns, cocks his head.

"drum-roll please," and he drum-rolls with the palms of his hands. she holds up a hand and he stops and she says, "mark watney is alive."

he gasps. he smiles. his jaw hangs open and his eyes are filled with pure joy. she hugs him tight and carries him out to the front lawn before he starts to yell. he doesn't ask how, he's young and he didn't understand the whole thing to begin with, he just knows that his hero is alive, the man he aspires to be. he jumps up and down and cheers and she doesn't stop him. then she picks him up and hoists him to her shoulders and says "say hi to mark watney."

"hi mark watney!" he says. "i hope you get back safe."

she sighs. doesn't mean to, but still does. her brother looks at her. "he is coming back, right?"

"i hope so," she says. she lets him down and he wants to play a game so she indulges. he's mark watney and she's houston. he runs around the yard in his pajamas and she laughs, imaging mark doing the same, running around mars in nasa pajamas.

when her brother's tired out, they go inside. she tucks him in and takes a shower. she doesn't cry anymore, after that. she lies in bed that night and she thinks about watney and mars and the ice cream she didn't clean off her neighbors' floor and her neighbors' little boy, the one she was babysitting. he's gonna grow up with asthma and he could die because of that, at any moment, but at least he wouldn't be alone. he'd have people, he'd have grass and he'd have nature, he'd be home, here on earth. he'd have everything mark doesn't. 

she drifts off, and her dreams are peaceful.


	2. bianca green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she doesn't cry. she just remembers

Bianca recognizes him. The astronaut. She sees his face and she hears his name and she remembers.

It was a few years ago and she was pregnant. Very pregnant. Her feet were swollen and her back ached and she felt awful, all the time.

She was in a Starbucks. She'd walked over from the grocery store, and she hadn't been able to land a cart so she held her bags, and they were heavy as all hell but she had no other choice.

She was still learning English, back then. She could hold a conversation but it was hard for her to keep up, sometimes, with native speakers. She got by.

The line was long. She waited. And she waited. Her arms ached. She made it to the front of the line, exhausted, pained. She sighed, then, for she couldn't bend over to set her bags down and she couldn't reach her wallet with her bags positioned the way they were. 

That's when she first saw him. He walked over from one of the tables and his eyes were wide and he looked worried. He said, "God, here, let me help you," and he reached for her bags.

She smiled at him, touched, but still she said, "Thank you, sir, but I am okay," for politeness's sake.

"I insist. Please, God, your arms are shaking. It's no big deal," he said. He gave her a small smile.

She looked back at the table he'd walked from. There was a girl sitting there, young, red hair tied up loose. "No, sir. You are with a girl, I don't want to be an, um, I don't want to be a... disturbance."

"I promise, you are being the farthest thing from a disturbance. Here," he said, and he reached for her bags and she let him take them all off her hands. She smiled at him and then she turned to the barista, placed an order and reached for her wallet. She opened it, leafed through it, then sighed. She had no money.

She slumped forward, looked apologetically at the barista and said, "I'm sorry, I must cancel my order, I do not-"

"I've got you covered," said the man who held her bags.

She frowned at him. "Please, sir, I can't let you pay for me."

"I insist! It's no big deal, I'm literally made of money," he said, moving the bags around so as to hold them all with one hand, and he laughed as he pulled a twenty dollar bill from behind his ear. Bianca laughed, too.

"How did you do that?"

"Magic," he said, looking pleased with himself. He handed the barista his twenty.

"Name?" said the barista.

"Bianca."

As they stepped forward, he grinned and he said to her, "That's a very lovely name!"

"Thank you! What is your name?"

"Ah, it's not nearly as nice as yours. I'm Mark."

"I do like that name!" Bianca said.

"You'd be the first," he chuckled. "There are so many Marks. I'm thinking of changing my name to something cool and different like, I don't know, Apollo or Spartacus or maybe The Best Botanist In All The Land."

"You are a botanist? That means you work with plants, yes? 

"Yes, I'm a botanist! And yes, that does mean I work with plants. Although it's more complicated than that, really."

"What did you say? Sorry, you said that very fast and I could not understand."

He repeated himself, slower this time, and he didn't sigh or grumble he just nodded, understanding. She wasn't used to such treatment, many acted annoyed, condescended her for her broken English, but he didn't hesitate to slow himself, and he did so without talking down to her. He asked her, then, if she was new to America. She said she was and he smiled and said, "Well, welcome. Have you liked it here?"

"I have liked it here so much."

"That's good."

"Bianca!" Called one of the workers, and she turned and took her drink.

She looked at Mark and she told him she wasn't going to stay, so she could take the bags off his hands. Mark shook his head. "No way, Bianca. You're bringing life into this world, the least I can do is help you carry these bags to your car." 

Bianca looked back at the young, red-haired woman and said, "I don't want to ruin your date. You two seem like you make a very cute couple." 

Mark looked confused. He turned to see who she was looking at, and then he laughed. Full-out belly laughed. "Oh my God, she'd get a kick out of that. On a date with me. That's comedy gold, right there." 

"So you are not on a date?"

"No. That's Lewis. She's my commander. And it's not that she's not great, it's just that... well, us being a thing wouldn't make a lot of sense." he paused, then laughed again. "Fuck, you called us a cute couple. I can't wait to tell her. She might kill me, but it'll be worth it." 

Bianca cocked her head. She didn't quite get what he was saying. "Commader?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Uh, we're both NASA trainees and she's gonna be my commander in a couple of years," Mark said. He leaned in and whispered, eyes lit with pure excitement, "We're gonna be astronauts!" 

Bianca nodded, laughed a little, then led the way outside because it was clear he wasn't going to let her leave without his help. Which she was thankful for, thankful for his help and thankful that for once, someone here was treating her like a normal person. 

As they walked, Bianca asked Mark more about his mission. He said, "I'm heading to Mars. It'll be a long trip, mentally and physically exhausting, but hey, I'm gonna be in space. I might even be the first person to successfully grow something in Martian soil. Just- how fucking cool is that? I think it's pretty fucking cool." 

"It is pretty fucking cool."

And they walked talked and laughed together. Bianca opened the trunk and Mark set the bags down, gently, one by one. Bianca smiled at him, thanked him again and again, and Mark clasped her hands and said, "Don't thank me. Don't. There's no need."

"Okay, but-"

"Bianca, I promise. I'm happy to help." Mark said. He glanced at her stomach. "When are you due?" 

"Last week." She grimaced. 

"Well," Mark said. "Shit. That's gotta be uncomfortable. But, okay, you're gonna have such an amazing kid. I hope the birth goes well!" 

"Me too." 

"I've got training in a few hours, and I can totally be late if you need any help, but it looks like you're good now, yeah?" 

"I think I will be okay," she said. "Thank you though." 

"Alright, well, Bianca, it's been a pleasure. Good luck with the birth! Promise you'll name the baby after me?" 

Bianca couldn't help it, she laughed hard. "I can't make any promises."

"Can't blame a guy for trying. Alright, bye, Bianca! I've gotta go pester Lewis about how cute of a couple we are. Have a great day, okay?"

Bianca nodded, said, "Good luck with being an astronaut. Be safe out there in space," and he smiled at her in return- smirked, rather- and he waved, turned his back to her. She moved a few weeks later and she had her son. She didn't name him Mark but she considered it. Seriously considered it. 

She watched them take off, the Ares III crew. She prayed for them, as they shot up into the sky, and once they reached orbit she let out a breath. "Have fun out there," she said. 

She remembers. She remembers, as the whole world hopes and prays she remembers, remembers him for who he was. Sure, she didn't know him for long, but he helped her. He reminded her that there was hope, that she worth something. 

She doesn't cry. She just remembers. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was fun to write! i've got all kinds of stories and povs lined up so stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to comment any cristisms or things you like!


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